


Return to the Common Room

by ceirdwenfc



Category: Daydverse - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: DAYDverse, Dark Humor, Gen, Hufflepuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 15:00:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceirdwenfc/pseuds/ceirdwenfc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Battle of Hogwarts. Takes place in the Hufflepuff Common Room. Based on thanfiction's daydverse. WARNINGS: GRAPHIC depictions of death and violence,black humor,may be offensive,also spoilers for Dumbledore's Army & the Year of Darkness-thanfiction</p>
            </blockquote>





	Return to the Common Room

The sounds of battle slowly faded as Ernie made his way down the corridor. The closer he got to his House, the quieter the passageway became, and as it became quieter, the louder the thudding in his ears became. Each step another heartbeat, another breath drawn.

He stared at the still life of the wooden bowl filled with its variety of fruit that should have made his mouth water. He reached a hand out to tickle the pear, pausing only briefly to look down with a grin as his stomach let out a very loud growl. _When_ was _the last time he ate anything?_

The portrait swung open to admit him to the Hufflepuff Common Room. The door closed quietly behind him as he entered and glanced around at the neat and tidy room. All of the dormitory doors were closed. The pillows tossed on the sofa; the firelight shining brightly, the portraits looking at him with wary smiles, a few of the more prominent ones missing from their canvases. He moved deeper into the room and closer to the warmth of the hearth, putting his hands near enough to feel the dancing flames. He was surprised to find the room empty. He expected the room to be full of his comrades in arms. _How could I be the first one back?_

He peered down at his mangled fingers, two of them completely gone and was a little thankful that there was no mirror nearby. He wasn't sure he wanted to see what the rest of him looked like at this point in the battle.

He gazed around the room once more, knowing that he wouldn't find what he wanted. Windows. How was he ever to know what was going on in the battle? Had the ceasefire ended? Did Susan make it out all right? He ran his uninjured fingers through his mess of curls and turned when he heard the portrait beginning to open.

He gripped his wand as best he could, waiting for someone to enter, unsure if it was friend or foe, and was relieved to see Wayne Hopkins. He didn't look any worse for wear except for his arm hanging pointlessly, dislocated at his left side, and they grinned at each other, moving forward to embrace tightly. Wayne winced as Ernie held his arm a bit too firmly.

"Are you all right, Wayne?"

"Something in my arm is wrong.  I was on the wrong end of one of those giant spiders," –he wiggled his fingers to imitate the legs--, "and I think it crushed something, although that was after I dislocated it."

It was Ernie's turn to wince when Wayne mentioned the spiders. He shuddered at the thought of giant spiders, but tried to pass it off as an indifferent shrug, even knowing that Wayne had seen him at his most vulnerable in their seven years of rooming together. The other man was a good friend and ignored Ernie's discomfort. He seemed about to change the subject when sounds came from the door once more.

They turned together towards the opening door, wands raised in their good hands, once more waiting.  Owen Cauldwell and Morag MacDougal were arm in arm, laughing about something the other had said. They were both covered in grass stains from shoulder to knees. Owen had grass stains on his face. Part of Morag's head was crushed, bits of stone stuck in her scalp and Owen's neck was red with what appeared to be a very severe rope burn. Upon seeing him, she untangled herself from Owen and Morag jumped into Ernie's arms, giving him a great big hug and a messy kiss on his cheek while he reached around her to shake Owen's outstretched hand.  She did the same to Wayne, although her kiss for Wayne was a bit more intimate.

In the others came, one by one, greeting their comrades, their Housemates, with handshakes and hugs.  Ernie watched Ryan as he tried to put his insides right, but in the end he finally simply tucked his shirt in, keeping as much of his intestines contained as he could. A house elf in a yellow and black shawl offered everyone some bit of food and a cup of tea.

"What, no firewhisky?" called out Chris Parnett, only half in jest. Much of his skin hung off his body from desperately fighting the werewolves over and over again, collapsing to the ground and then getting up until he finally was able to rise no more.

"Aren't you underage?" Martin Cadwallader answered, stooping to pick acromantula pieces from his pajama bottoms and tossing them in one of the nearby buckets that their House elf had provided in various parts of the room.

"What do you think, Lieutenant?"

Ernie turned to face Gertie. Of everyone she looked completely out of place. No injuries except for a bump on the back of her head, falling hard when the Killing Curse hit her. "I suppose we all deserve a bit," he answered.  "A tiny dram each. Would you mind, Hadrien?" he asked the elf with a kind smile. "We're _all_ overage in this room."

A cheer went up, and Ernie thought it had to do with his decision to allow the firewhisky in the Common Room, but it was Derek's arrival. He was a mess of scratches and claw marks, deep bites along his cheek still oozing, but he was preoccupied in helping Hal Summers. Hal was unsteady on his feet and he continued rubbing the blood from his face, and was still scratching at his self-mangled ears. When Ernie looked quizzically at him, he shrugged. "Mandrakes. A hex caught my ear muffs.  Should've paid more attention to Sprout in class."

The room erupted in laughter. Some of the younger students weren't sure if laughing was appropriate and their cheeks colored in confusion, but still they laughed. They joked. They slapped backs. They hugged and held each other and embraced, finally settling into a comfortable quiet of chatter.  Ernie smiled at everyone and returned all the hugs, but was keeping himself in check, watching the door with anticipation and apprehension, hoping not to see the _one_ person he truly wanted to see again.

The door opened yet again and Rowan Glynnis came limping in, holding onto Janice Dorney's arm. Janice pulled her cloak tightly around her when she saw the large group of faces now focused on her. Ernie smiled, reaching out a hand to pat her arm. "It's all right, Janice. It's only us in here."  She continued to hold the cloak closed almost all the way, apparently trying to hide the rubble pieces sticking out of her body, pieces that had been embedded by the sheer force of the impaling.

Rowan smiled, brushing the hair from her forehead with bruised and broken fingers. She was a bloody mess, Ernie thought, in every sense of the word. On her heels were James Stebbins who had severe teeth marks on what skin was left, his clothes in tatters, and Mildred Stemple, showing the aftereffects of the Reducto that took her down, a hole left in her the size of a Bludger.

Hadrien came around again with the tea. Chris's brightening face showed that his was a bit more than tea, and when asked if he wanted sugar, he pulled a face that really said it all. He raised his cup to Ernie, and as the Common Room door closed with a loud bang, Ernie knew that this was all. No more would be coming today. He felt his body sigh with relief. He had done it. He had protected his family. If only their sacrifice had protected the rest of the students and the people at the castle.

"What about Laura?" Rowan asked. "I saw her go down near Ginny and me."

Ernie shrugged, calling out. "Does anyone know where Laura Madley is? Did you see her on your way here?"

Janice thought for a moment. "Wait, I did see her with Madam Pomfrey; on the dais."

"Me, too," Ryan called out. "She was unconscious, next to Firenze, the Centaur."  He was starting to ooze intestines again, and he poked at the section until Gertie made a face at him and he laughed. "Sorry, Gertie, I just can't seem to hold myself together."

She shook her head, grinning.

Wayne nodded and slung an arm around Owen's shoulders, plucking a stray clump of grass from the neck of his pajamas and flicking it to the floor, which earned him a withering look from their elf. Wayne looked up at Morag, who had come up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. It was strange, but it didn't seem to hurt anymore. He had just turned towards Ernie and began to speak when the portrait swung open again.

The Fat Friar beamed at them all.  "You've done so well Hufflepuffs. It's a bit of a clean-up time now before you go." He waved his hand and waited. It didn't take long for any of them to see what was happening.

Appearing in front of each of them, they each received a bucket of warm water and a small cloth and they helped each other wipe away the dirt and the blood and the bits of skin that remained barely attached.

No one seemed to question that with each pass of the warm wet cloth, their wounds were going away gradually and their pain was subsiding. They were beginning to look more and more like they did at the start of the year – before Carrows and floggings and Death Eaters in the castle. New sets of pajamas and uniforms and robes were brought out and they could choose whether they would wear the pajamas or the uniforms.

"It's your turn, Lieutenant." Ernie faced the Fat Friar, who was looking up into Ernie's face, a beaming smile on his. "You did well. You led well. I'm so proud of you lad." He put a strong grip on Ernie's forearm, and for a moment, Ernie thought he heard his father's voice coming from the Friar's lips. "It's time for you to get ready as well."

He handed him his own bucket and Ernie began to clean himself off. It was as if he used Skele-Gro when he wiped down his injured hand. His three fingers returned. He looked at his left hand, a pain in his heart when he saw his wedding ring gone. He did know that it would be kept safe and he didn't regret what happened to it, but he missed the comfort of it on his finger. He continued his clean up erasing all signs of the battle –all the blood, the dirt, the grime. He repaired what was broken and replaced what was missing, and soon they all looked as fresh and clean as First-Years, except that most of them were older, taller, broader.

He looked at each of them, pausing to remember their faces and their sacrifices and their lives. They showed the world what was right. They stood. Together. And they survived in their own way.

He thought he should say something to them now, and as he gathered his thoughts, the portrait swung open. He hesitated, wondering if Laura had finally arrived, but it was a man, almost as tall as Ernie, strong and athletic, but not as broad. Ernie recognized him from their many times on the Quidditch pitch and a collective gasp went up from the rest of the Hufflepuffs. Ernie crossed the room to shake Cedric Diggory's hand and they embraced, remaining joined until Cedric stepped back.

"Well done, Ernie. Well done everyone," he added in a louder voice.

He hadn't seen her at first, but there was a woman standing just behind Cedric. She was nearly as tall as Ernie as well and her blonde hair was pulled into a loose plait, strands falling into her face. She had a lovely round face that reminded him of Hannah, and he thought for a moment that it might be Hannah's Mum, but then he remembered where he'd seen that face before. He'd seen her portrait in the common room every day for the last seven years, and had never imagined that he would have the opportunity to meet Helga Hufflepuff.

She spoke softly, but the room became so still as her presence was revealed, she was easily heard.

"Welcome home, Hufflepuffs.  You've done so well." She touched Hal's shoulder. "I remember your first kiss – that sixth year in the potions dungeon." Hal smiled, obviously remembering it as well. "And, your first goal, my dear," she said, turning towards Rowan, who beamed at Helga.

"My, how you've all grown. And now it's time for us to go."

"What's happening in the fight? Are we making any inroads?"

There was a general call to repeat Owen's inquiries and Helga hushed them with a fluttering of her fingers. "No need to worry about that now. For you, it's over."

"We still have friends out there."

"Have we kept the castle?"

"What about Laura?"

"Is Professor Sprout all right?"

"Is Voldemort dead?"

"Harry -?"

"Neville -?"

Ernie's whispered, "Is my wife all right?" was lost as she waved her hands again.

"There will be time for that, but the time now is for you to follow me."

There were no more questions as they queued up, no longer worrying about which year went first or should they queue up shortest to tallest or youngest to oldest. There were hugs and hand-holding and good-natured pushing and a laugh here and there. It was more of a swept-up mob than a queue.

As they walked together, it was easy to realize that the corridors were empty and quiet. It had sounded as though the battle had ended. They followed Helga and the Fat Friar as they led them on their next journey. No one was distracted by their new mission despite not knowing what that mission was. No one spoke and it was in their stillness, their silence that Ernie heard it.

It was the quiet cry of a broken heart. He edged away from his mates and followed the sounds, although he went more on instinct than on the sounds themselves.  There was a classroom and the door was open. He could see the outstretched legs of a man lying on the floor. He recognized the worn shoes immediately and saw his own head cradled in his wife's lap. He went to speak to her, but Helga's hand on his shoulder stilled his voice.

"My wife," he explained.

"I know. I've watched the two of you all year."

Ernie blushed wondering exactly what that meant, but said nothing. He chewed his lip for a moment. "Can I talk to her; say goodbye?" He looked at his founder with hopeful expectation, but her head shook slightly and he looked away so she couldn't see his eyes moistening.

"No, I'm sorry you can't. She can feel your presence though. Your sacrifice was great, Mr. Macmillan. You know you did the right thing."

He nodded, but remained silent.

"It was a great and noble thing to do for your family and speaks to your integrity as a man, a husband, and your love as a father. Go on," she said, giving him a small push on his back. "Say goodbye quickly. The others are waiting, but you can say goodbye."

He looked at Helga with enormous gratitude and bolted into the classroom. He stopped just short of Susan and watched her running her fingers through his blood streaked hair, murmuring words of affection. He swallowed and reached out hesitantly to touch her on her small quivering shoulder. His hand dipped inside of her and that surprised them both. Her head jolted up and she turned in his direction. His name was on her lips, but she remained silent.

"Oh Susan. My Susan. I love you. Take care of yourself and of our Cecily."

"Susan," a voice came from the doorway. "Sorry ta interrupt. Could I see ya a minute?"

"Of course, Seamus," she said quietly.

Ernie's hand was still on her shoulder, and she covered his hand with hers. He felt her warmth overtake the coolness of his skin and he smiled. "Goodbye Susan."

He took his hand away and he and Seamus exchanged places, Seamus standing above Susan and Ernie standing with Helga in the doorway. He watched a moment more as they talked, although he couldn't hear what they were saying and then Seamus handed something small to Susan, which she took and carefully put into her bag, never once taking her hands from Ernie's hair.

Ernie felt Helga's hand on his back again as she led him back to his team, his comrades, his House. His Hufflepuffs.


End file.
